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Saturday, February 27, 2010

55 fiction is a form of a mini fiction story to be told within the word limit of 55 words. Thanks to my dear blogger The West Wind, I discovered the thrill and challenge to think,imagine,and execute the flexibility of words and ideas and put it down on paper with a satisfaction of accomplishment.
Here goes! ::
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ **** ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

She plucked a white rose, and drew with her sketch pens on it. She wedded the petals to colors so bright,vibrant and exotic! She laughed in delight. Yet,she left stranded veins of the white remain..Back at the king's palace, a girl child was born... from the womb of the widowed maid.

Tuesday, February 23, 2010

At times,a song is all you need to feel different, distinguished,independent.. So many things,that we carve spellings of in our minds, but realize the feelings a little less than we should. Was listening to a song called Volcano by Damien Rice.. The funny part is, the song might not leave a message of the feeling you end up with, but nevertheless helps with the tune..The melody.What I feel now, is like I'm a 15 year old individual, a girl who can take risks and not blame another for it,someone who's strong,capable,and happy. Tad bits of sadness,that just increase the reality of the elated feeling. And all this is a result of the tune,just the tune and harmony of the song. No,not the lyrics, few lines to an extent..Like the one I mentioned in the beginning of the post..

I feel like I'm back to myself a year back. So many things were different. I was so different. I've changed..beyond my own recognition. Some things,changed in me for the best, but to bring out that best,I've had to let go of things I loved about myself. I miss those habits. I miss my carefree-self. I miss not caring a damn about anything,and just doing it. And then smile wildly at myself and go "Yeah!!!" .I'm still a kid, 15 years is younngg. I know. I still am carefree, I still do things on whims,but I've sobered down. A lot. I'm not reckless. I'm patient in things that I never dreamt off. Some of the best things happened to me in the past year. And no matter how contradicting I sound to myself, but the best things come with a price you pay.

Exactly now, that I'm writing this post, I sound so different and alien to myself when I compare with who I was a year back. But I guess,only thing that's constant is change.

I miss my old self,but I like myself now,too. So I guess,I'll walk right ahead. And maybe bring back a bit of my older self, cause abandoning it seems unfair. I'll adventure,again. Break some rules,again, to smile at myself wildly and day "Yeah!!" and never regret it. Cause I think I've forgotten my own philosophy lately.. To break free ;)

You guys, go get some fun and adventure. Screw office/collage/school for a day. Go have fun, be a stupid kid :)

Thursday, February 18, 2010

I'm sorry haven't updated in a while,but it's been busy. So, today I got my admit card for the Boards.. I might sound absolutely crazy when I say this,but to a normal student this day should be a doom day? If not more. Cause getting the Admit Card gives you the green signal to enter an alien school,sit in an unfamiliar, uncomfortable bench and write an exam that is one of the most valued-through out your life.

But somehow,my neurons didn't seem to register that. They royally ignored the fact that this coming exam would be like crossing a mile stone in my life, or that there are people out there waiting for me to do well..None of that. Instead,I felt happy.

[This is the part where you trigger the gun]

My class teacher--the very one I hate- made me sign the documents and gave me my admit card along with the Apeejay Badge. She stuffed in curd and a sweet into my mouth and recited the same dialogue that she recited to all the other 47 kids- "Do well haa beta? You'll do very well!" and then she added a "Keep up with the writing,haa,Nilanjana!" to me.

I knew she was waiting to get into her car,get home and take a nice hot bath. And that she didn't care a damn to what I wrote,and yet, I smiled. I liked what she said.

[This is the part where you shoot me.]

So after that,I went to the staff room,to get some Astronomy stuff from a teacher who apparently went maniacal looking for me through out [In my friend,Suvriti's lingo]. And when I went, there were teachers who called me and wished me luck, and 2 of the Bengali teachers looked like they'd kiss me if they could to wish me luck. Remya's mom was a sweetheart,to me. Even the man-looking lady teacher [New lady,I have no clue who she is] wished me luck with a hearty smile and a half hug.

And Thennnn,came one of the people who I actually bother school for- Suman Anand ma'am.

If you're new to my blog,let me tell you that she is the teacher who discovered my writing in lesson answers and spelling punishments. You can read her contributions in my life by reading thisand then this .

Few weeks back I had given her a poem to read.. So today,she starts with; "You know Nilanjana...At times I wonder,how some people can just reflect so much about their thoughts and the depth of the world at such a tender age..." and then another kind teacher,Mrs.Amita Jaisingh said "She really does have a powerful flair of writing you know!" and then the two teachers started appreciating my poem with me melting in blushes. But you know guys,no matter how funny and embarrassing these things might be,today once again I've realized that I truly am blessed to have known such teachers in my life,who're silent most of the times,but speak up when you need encouragement the most. Suman Anand ma'am hugged me,and said; "no matter what you do,where you go,or where I am,I need you to keep in touch with me and keep writing...Keep writing because you're gifted and I might not be here next year,but keep in touch to let me read your writing!"

I feel blessed yous. I truly,truly feel blessed.

Today,I celebrate my bliss and my gratitude to all those teachers and yes,my school which has helped me acquire heights that I could only dream off. These teachers have made me dream,realize,and execute.

Here's to you, Suman ma'am.

:)

With the pencil,you have not only taught me a subject...You've taught me love,compassion,music,art,the world,and myslef. Love to you,ma'am.

All my love

-The girl who had a terrible handwriting and made spelling mistakes :P

Friday, February 12, 2010

"Puzzaahh!" till date is my favorite word in the world. No matter how age old that nickname of mine might be,but it was and always will be the nickname closest to my heart. Because you called me that.

Since the 15 years of my not very old life,I have always tried to imitate you, consciously/subconsciously- I don't quite know. When my brothers used to call me the 'Chela' and you the 'Guru' I always used to give them a proud smile,because somehow,what I felt was never offense at being called your 'Chela'- but always a boastful pride that took those mockeries like huge compliments. I was a kid,still am,and always will be-around you. No matter how old I might get,I'll always be the foolish sister who you have to guide at each step, no matter how obvious the right thing might be to the eye.

I have always come running to you with my tears,my anxieties,fears,happiness,hopes and dreams. I have always bored you with my unstoppable rantings about my childhood crushes. I always confided in you the darkest sides of myself,of my experiences. You knew my flip sides,and you never boasted about knowing me the best.

You told me about growing up,the complexities,the hardships,the fun,the joys. You knew when the time was right,I'll remember your words,and sigh relief that I had someone who cared.

You once messaged me that my connection with you is what one feels after a pinch-instant and immediate. You defined the strong threads of our relationship so well,in a mere few words-I thought that day. I smiled to myself. You make me feel like a child,no matter how wannabe-old I might want to act at times.

Today,when I read your blog, realization struck me. The way those simple words of your's let out the simplest and one of the most important messages in life was magical. I realized then,that all through out my life-that's exactly what you've been doing. The simple advices,and the mere conversations have always left a trivial or a huge lesson of life-for me to heed and understand. My gratitude,today is something inexpressible. My vocabulary deceives me,today-as I strive to find words that might reflect even a quarter of my love and respect for you.

I am indebted to you,for life.

You've been there. No matter when I thought things would change, you let me know even from those little SMS's that you're there. And that your bond with me,your love for me,my importance to you will never change. You've always tried to make me feel secure, and confident about myself and my capabilities.

Ladies and gentlemen, I now present to you the blog of this person,my pillar -- My sister Shruti-- to whom this post is dedicated to. May her honest and sincere words touch you all with the same love, it does to me.

Monday, February 8, 2010

Your mother was killed yesterday.
You can't do anything about it. You know why? Cause you don't know she's left you. You don't know she's been murdered. You didn't hear her cry. You didn't see the trace of blood that followed her body.
She went to find you food.
You don't know anything. So you've been waiting for her to get back,since yesterday. Hungry,scared,tired,sleepy. You've been waiting for her to come,to get you food and for you to sleep under her securing,warm body.
You waited. She never came back.You're still waiting.

Feeling goose bumps? I hope you are. Cause these tigers feel it,everyday.
I just saw an add. It said,India is left with 1411 tigers.1411. Yes.
That's the amount of money people spend to get a wallhanging of a single claw nail,of a tiger. And from the illegal markets blossoming with tiger skin rugs,cheetah skinned dresses,bags,claw decorations,etc etc, the population of a breathing creature, has crawled down to a figure of 1141.
Our National animal. Our icon of pride. Of strength- Of life, is dying. Slowly,painfully.

Do something. You guys. Please. I'm feeling sick inside.. I feel like a murder belonging to the human race. How can we do this to another breathing life,like us? How can we be deaf to the bullet and the piercing cry? How can we be so blind to the teary eyes of those cubs? How can we be ignorant towards the heart beat,the heart pumping blood through veins, just like our heart does?How can we not see our World dying? Or rather, how can we choose not to???

We're dying guys, soon enough. We're killing our family,the tigers are our ancestors,we borrowed the trees,the land,the sky,from them. And All those animals out there in the wild..or rather,in the captive of death.

SPREAD AWARENESS, I'm pleading. Call,text,blog,protests,websites,radio,television,pagers.There's no point being proud of our communication and technology if they don't help us live--save our lives and families.

Save the Tiger.

Photography Credit: Niloy Ghosh Dastidar.

P.S- You can visit various websites which focus on the Cat Family and carry on this movement. You can visit the website of Indian Tigers and the Cat family- HERE .

Saturday, February 6, 2010

This second, extremely precious award is from my darling darling friend The West Wind. In a very short and tiny span of time,she and I have become pretty good friends. I'm so glad. She's to be treasured, and so is her writing. Honest and sincere.One heck of a talented lady,thank you very very much for this very kind award.